Steve left the room, and I instinctively moved to follow. But before I could take a step, the elder’s voice came from behind me.

  “You brats are all eager to die. Let him go. Go to sleep. I’ll train you tomorrow.”

  His tone was calm, almost casual, like he was talking about the weather instead of life and death.

  I didn’t turn around. My eyes stayed on the door, tracing Steve’s path into the dark. And honestly? The thought surfaced, quiet and cold. He was right. I didn’t know what was happening, not really. Steve should go alone.

  So I walked. Not rushed, not hesitant, just steady. Step after step until the night air swallowed me. The shack, my so-called Safe Haven, waited where we’d left it.

  Fifteen steps, maybe more, and I was at the front door. I pushed it open.

  The inside was exactly as it had been before. Except… no, not exactly. The light was different. Electric.

  I froze, scanning. Two light sources. No, everything was doubled. One set probably runs off natural power, solar maybe, and another glowing on electricity. Separate systems. Not connected. Not blended.

  Like even the house couldn’t decide which world it belonged to.

  The lantern that hung there all afternoon looked dead now. Like someone had cut the throat of light. My head throbbed. Sedative, stone in my skull, or just plain exhaustion, take your pick. Didn’t matter. I didn’t have the energy to worry about it. I needed sleep.

  Wait. I need to pee.

  Of course I do. And of course I don’t know where the toilet is. Village life is brutal. No bathrooms in the houses. Everything’s a separate building, which I’d noticed on the walk. Lovely.

  Okay. Plan: pee out the window. Hopefully nobody’s watching. I edge over and peer down. The ground slopes away, about a person and a half down. Perfect. Nobody will see a thing from there.

  I unzip, lean out, insert my man in the grill’s empty spaces and—fuuh—relief hits like a warm wave. Small victories matter.

  I guess having a built-in joystick to control the direction of pee is one of the greatest design choices in human biology. For that alone, I thank God for making me what I am.

  Right then. Sleep.

  Oh, wait. The light’s still on. Or should I say a light. Where’s the switch?

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  I glance around. The place isn’t huge, but it’s not tiny either. Two rooms, each about the size of my old bedroom back in the apartment and a combined dining and drawing room where I woke up after getting abducted. Well, it’s more than good enough for me.

  There. On the wall, next to a hanging shelf, middle-left of the front door, facing the bed. A switchboard. I walk over, and, oh my God. Nine switches. Nine.

  Which one’s for the light?

  Fourth from the left has a shaky “L” scribbled above it in permanent marker. If I had to guess as if my life depends on it, I’ll flick it no doubt. As I thought that... click.

  Ahh Yes. Sweet old darkness, a man’s best friend.

  Oh wait! It’s pitch-black. Dark like a void.

  I guess the waxing crescent isn’t much of a lantern tonight.

  I dig my phone out of my pocket, dead. Zero charge. Great. No flashlight, no screen, nothing. Just me, the dark, and the wind howling outside like it’s carrying secrets. Fresh air, sure it is, but right now it feels like ghosts breathing down my neck.

  Nope. Nope nope nope. I’m not liking this.

  Where’s the switch? Where is it? My hands tremble as I feel blindly across the wall. The freezing chill crawls over my skin, my chest tightens, and my mind starts playing tricks. Why does this feel so different? Why does this void feel, alive?

  Click!

  Oh thank God. Light.

  I never realized I was scared of the dark like that. Maybe it’s just because this isn’t my darkness. Unknown walls. Unknown floorboards. Unknown air. Yeah, that’s probably it. Back home I actually liked the dark.

  Enough overthinking. Phone first.

  There’s already a charger dangling from the socket, like someone just left it there. Do villagers not care about losing stuff like this?

  I shove the plug in, set my phone on the shelf, and watch as, ten seconds later, the boot screen flickers to life.

  Sigh. Relief. Like a cold breeze on a summer afternoon.

  I zip my pants carefully and close the window doors one by one. Six of them. On a single window.

  Weird.

  The walls catch my eye. From the side, they look… concrete? Wait, aren’t they supposed to be wood?

  I lean closer. Ohhh. The whole building is concrete, but layered with wood on the outside. No wonder this shack-looking place feels so solid inside. Premium enough for me, at least.

  My head is still throbbing. No more overthinking. I need sleep.

  I grab the lantern from its hook above. Huh? There’s a lighter tied to it. And inside, a string, like a candle wick. So that’s how it worked earlier! Real fire. Simple, but clever.

  The glass slides up easily when I hold it in one hand. Lucky I’ve got decent grip strength, or else the floor would be glittering with shards by now. I spark the lighter, touch the wick and... woah! Flame bursts to life, steady and warm. I slide the glass back down; the flame doesn’t suffocate, thanks to a little vent cut into the side.

  I hang it back in place, then flick off the electric light. Finally, not a void of darkness, but a soft glow. Shadows breathing against the walls.

  That’s better.

  That’s sleep.

  I sink into the bed. Comfy. A little too comfy for a so-called “safe haven.” But I’m too tired to question it. The dim fire hums above me, and as I close my eyes, the strangeness of this new world finally fades into dreams.